Whether it's a job or a career, work can be a big part of your life. Holding down a job is one of the most difficult challenges of bipolar disorder. The Depression and Bipolar Support Alliance (DBSA) states that 88% of people with a mental illness reported that their illness affected their ability to perform their duties. I loved my job. It's been seven years since I've worked, and I still miss it. Not only do I miss the actual work, but I miss the social interaction, the feelings of accomplishment and fulfilment, and the creative outlet. When it comes to work, there's the burning question of whether or not to disclose that you have bipolar disorder – to your immediate supervisor, manager or co-workers. An argument can be made either way but to tell or not to tell should be seriously considered. It's a very personal decision. In most vocations you are not obligated to tell. Your health is private. But if you don't tell you won't have the support from your supervisor or co-workers. You won't have understanding when your moods make you sick and keep you home. You'll have to keep your medical appointments secret (or even problematically miss them). And you won't have the accommodations that could help you succeed. I chose to tell. I faced gossip, anxiety, judgement and even disrespect. So I suppose you'd have to say I faced stigma. But I'm glad I told. Overall it was for the better. My supervisor and manager were very supportive and accommodating, and most of my co-workers were understanding. After an unsuccessful return-to-work and considerable research, I have learned some of the best supports that you should have in place if you decide to work while you have bipolar disorder. Those include: extra time to learn new tasks, a self-paced workload, modified hours (even some working from home), frequent yet short breaks, fresh air/brief walk, reduced responsibilities, know your limits, regular meetings with your supervisor and provide them with resources about bipolar, increase natural lighting, have a private office or quiet area to reduce noise and distractions, divide large assignments into smaller tasks, maintain several calendars and lists, structure but at the same time flexibility, and stick to your treatment plan. These may or may not be possible depending on your work. For me, it's not only the many symptoms of depression and/or mania that keep me from work, but also the executive and cognitive deficits that have developed as a result of bipolar. Those challenges include: memory loss, decision-making, problem-solving, concentration and organization. The ability to work is just another thing bipolar has stolen from me. I envy those who can.

Just days after writing about recovery, and what a good place I was in, I woke up at the other end of the spectrum – depressed. How? Why? Who knows. There isn't usually a reason though sometimes there's a trigger – not this time - at least not that I recognized. I had plans for the day. I was to go downtown to the rubber stamp store and make a greeting card with my stamping friends. I cancelled. I wasn't in the mood to smile and make nice. I didn't have the energy to pretend. Surprisingly it was a beautiful day outside – or at least it looked that way from the window. I wouldn't find out. I chose not to get dressed. I stayed in my pyjamas all day – haven't done that in a long while. I even went to bed for a couple of hours. Then I looked at the calendar – October – a month that for me is historically difficult. Just goes to show you that you can go from baseline to depressed literally overnight – that you can turn around and get punched in the gut by this thing called bipolar. I try to fight back the tears knowing that things will change. Somehow they always do. So I think tomorrow is another day, and this too shall pass.

Bipolar Disorder has no “cure.” It is a chronic, progressive illness that will forever be part of my make up, and therefore there is no clinical measure to assess bipolar recovery. So what does “recovery” really mean? Recovery looks different to each individual stricken with this illness. For me, bipolar disorder has three main stages: crisis, management and recovery. In these terms “recovery” could also be referred to as remission. Crisis refers to being in a full-blown episode (either depression or mania). Management means that you are currently handling your symptoms to the point that they are not taking over your life. And, to me, recovery represents a place where treatment is optimized and I actually have a life. Recovery happened for me when I was finally prescribed the right medication cocktail, was receiving worthwhile therapy and psychiatric care, made the necessary lifestyle changes, and had a successful support network. This is my tool kit, and when all these factors align I feel like I'm in recovery. Recovery is not one thing, but rather a process of stages and everyone passes through these stages at different speeds. Generally, it's a very slow road. Unlike most physical illnesses where recovery means returning to a level of functioning of the pre-illness condition, that is usually not possible when dealing with bipolar disorder. You decide what recovery looks like to you. For me it's getting up and dressed every day, leaving the house and having rewarding personal relationships. For others it is more full-functioning like holding down a job. My goal is to lead a productive, meaningful life with as few bipolar interruptions as possible. I understand my illness quite well. I understand how it manifests itself in me. I realize that being sick is only a trigger or crisis away. So I use all my tools and try to keep my symptoms at bay. I set short-term goals and celebrate when I reach them. I feel well. For me, I am in recovery.